The Live of Claire de la Stelle
by Kitten-Azurro
Summary: A young girl, who proclaims to have risen from the immortal dead, the Brat Prince and the Mother... Vampire Chronicles


My name is Claire dell Stelle. My mortal parents, a French woman and an Italian soldier, gave me those names. My father was a soldier who marched through France and felt in love with my mother. This is what they told me, and this is what my maker told me. I don't know how I ended up in New Orleans. I have almost no memories of my mortal life, only those of my last mortal days.

By writing this story, my life story, I am breaking a rule. No more books. I don't really care about the rules, as my coven isn't able to tame me, risking to harm me. Various others have told their stories. My maker, my brother, an imp (who is, on the note, a good friend to me).

Let me warn you; I am no human. On this moment, I am not the youngest fledgling of my maker. But that comes later. I am, what humans call, a vampire. No, I do not sparkle in the sun. These days, my skin colours, but when I was just made, I would easily turn to ashes. But let me finally start my story.

It was the coldest winter I've ever lived through. Ice was coursing through my veins, instead of blood. Every breeze made me shiver. I knew I wasn't going to survive past the night if I didn't find a place to stay. My clothes, barely more than rags, provided no protection against the biting cold. Oh, if I just had a home, a roof above my head. I don't know if there is a god who heard me and fulfilled my request, but it happened eventually. For now, there was nobody on the dirty streets. I usually stole things from people; I was fragile and small, not easy to get. But there was nobody to steal from. Most beggars had found a safe place. Pondering, I walked further, until I noticed him. He looked at me, with a curious gaze. The aristocrat. The blonde I always spotted around here. I don't know what he was doing in this part of the city, always dressed in silk, velvet, all those expansive fabrics. I glared at him. I hoped it was dark enough so he wouldn't see my blush; he was handsome. His skin, white as porcelain, the ruby lips and the smoky grey eyes, the blonde strands. He was leaning against the dirty wall. I decided to take my chance and leapt at him, trying to steal something, anything. Suddenly, he got my wrist in his unnatural strong grasp and twisted it. I cried out and felt on my knees. He pushed me back, so that I laid on the cold ice, the frozen mud. I saw the moon, looking at me from far away, before he bended over me. Strands of his blonde hair brushed over my face. He smiled at me and I gasped as I saw his white canines. Everything turned black.

I woke up in a bed. Not a pile of hay. A soft, cosy bed, with silk blankets. I raised up, wearing the rags I wore before. I looked around. A bottle. I was thirsty and I took the bottled and gulped the white wine down. I looked around again, cautious. I spotted a dressing screen. And after that, I spotted the silk….dress. The one who was my captor didn't know me…at all. I stood up from the bed and walked over to the dress at the ground. There was enough light in the room, due various candles. I grabbed it and sighed. I went behind the dressing screen; not that there was anybody else than me in the room, but I just wanted to use that luxury I haven't had in a long time. When I got in the dress, I ripped the fabric and tied to lose ends together, so that I had a sort of trousers. It wouldn't provide me that much warmth but better than nothing. When I came from behind the screen, there was a new bottle of wine. Red wine this time. I sighed and sat down on the bed.

"A lady who doesn't like dresses?" a voice like silk asked. I almost tumbled of the bed.

"You" I hissed at the blonde aristocrat. He looked at me, with curious eyes, interested. With the good light, I saw how pale he was, how motionless…almost like a corpse. I stormed at him, trying to hit him. I was angry, for how he kept me captive. When my fist crashed at his chest, I cried out. He was hard as stone. He raised one eyebrow at me. I stumbled back, sat down and looked at my fist. It was a miracle it wasn't broken.

"What are you?" I whispered at him. He remained silent, but walked towards me. I crawled back, in fear he would hurt me again. A small smile played around his lips.

"Ma chére, I am giving you the choice, I, never had" he said.

"And who is this I?" I asked him. Although I was afraid of him, I wasn't planning on being tamed.

"My name is Lestat, Lestat de Lioncourt" he replied.  
"Well, mr. aristocrat, I'd rather leave and never see you again" I said, getting on my legs. He was taller than me.

"What is your name?" he asked. "It's rude, after I gave you mine"

"I don't care" I said, turning around. I walked through the room, searching for a door. When I found one, in the same colour as the walls, I tried to open it. Locked. I turned around.

"Your name"

"Claire" I said. "Claire dell Stelle"  
"Claire, I am not a human" he started his speech. I listened to him. He told me he was some kind of demon, a vampire. I could join him, as companion, as his fledgling. I would live forever and be forever young. I would drink blood, I would be rich. I couldn't refuse; it was not the speech, but an immortal instinct which was awakened in me, what forced it.

"Hold still" Lestat whispered to me as he pierced my skin. He drained me, as he drained his victims. Just before I was completely empty, he stopped. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed, I was empty, I was going to die!

"Drink"

Cold drops on my skin, my lips. In a reflex, I shot to his wrist, the two wounds he'd made, and I drunk. I drunk my first blood.

"Stop, Claire, stop" he muttered, first softly, then louder, until he pulled his wrist away. I whined softly. I was too tired, and I felt weird. I cried out as a sharp pain flared through my body.

"What…what…is…happening?" I said through panting.  
"You're dying" the vampire said. We both remained silent, my lips moving in a silent scream. When the pain faded, eventually stopped, Lestat picked me gently up.

"Let me go" I said weakly. I struggled until he dropped me, and I stood up. He opened the door and I followed him; we had been in some sort of basement of an old ruin. He led me to the streets, where I found out my skin didn't react to the cold as it had before.

"Do you see that woman over there?" Lestat suddenly asked. I nodded silently; I saw her clearly, a middle-aged woman, with big breasts. A whore, clearly, luring for a prey, not knowing she'd became the prey.

"She killed her husband" he said.  
"How do you know that for sure?"  
"Read her mind" he replied. I frowned and concentrated, when suddenly various voice streamed into my head. I gasped and looked at him. I searched until I found the right one, which confirmed what Lestat said. He motioned for me to stay where I was, and I obeyed him, for once.

"Well, hello monsieur" the woman greeted him as she walked towards him. "You look lonely. I could keep your company?" she offered with a most charming smile. It almost made me vomit.

"Ah, madam" Lestat said with a deep sigh. "I do not need your company" he said. He grabbed her wrist and she struggled to get away, as he smiled, showing his fangs to her.  
"I need something whole different.." he called me and I went over to them.  
"Drink" he offered. I looked at her, afraid, struggling. I grabbed her throat, gently but yet firm, without breaking anything. I looked up at my maker, before piercing her skin, very, very gently, and feeding myself. He tried to pull me from my kill.

"Claire, you must not drink for the death!" he urged me. I looked up at him and dropped the kill, just before the heart stopped beating. I suppose I must have looked like a puppy, since he started to laugh. I glared at him.

"What is next?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"We better get home, before dawn" Lestat said. With that, he took off. I think he wanted to test how strong I was, but I managed to keep up with him. Well, I could often see him race just around the corner. He stopped in front of a house in a better part of the city than I've been living. You could better call it 'surviving'. Later, I would learn we'd a very nice house on Rue Royale. I was uneducated at the time I was reborn to vampire.

Ah, a little note on how I write. I use various expressions, ranging from now to the very day I was first born. I noticed everybody uses other words for being a vampire. So have I heard 'being born to darkness', 'the Dark Gift' and so on.


End file.
